


Turn Your Face Towards the Sun

by RowanBaines



Series: Let the Shadows Fall Behind You [1]
Category: Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Bottom Spock, First Time, M/M, Restraints, Rough Sex, Wall Sex, and by restraints i mean a gold sash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:52:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanBaines/pseuds/RowanBaines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He was not a fool.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Commander Spock watched his captain with covetous eyes, but he bided his time.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Your Face Towards the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrekkieSlut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekkieSlut/gifts).



> Written for [TrekkieSlut](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekkieSlut/pseuds/TrekkieSlut), because I'm grateful for all the amazing smut! <3
> 
> Many thanks to my awesome beta and friend, [Druxykexy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/druxykexy/pseuds/druxykexy)!

He was not a fool.

  


Commander Spock watched his captain with covetous eyes, but he bided his time.

  


Spock once overheard a conversation between two ensigns in which they debated what course a relationship between himself and the captain would take. Spock’s Vulcan strength seemed to award him an unfair number of points in what the two crewmen seemed to view as a competition. 

  


Spock had found it difficult not to take action against them in retribution for the slight against his intelligence.

  


Physical strength only mattered so much in the Empire. Spock had encountered enough humans in positions of great power to understand this. These were beings who took what they wanted, trampling over the irresolute and the timid, and the most enduring of them were the ones who used their wits to gain and hold their place among the mighty.

  


Spock desired his captain, but to attempt to take what he wanted by force would result in one of two outcomes: Kirk would kill Spock out of vengeance, or Spock would be forced to kill Kirk in order to protect himself from his captain’s wrath.

  


Physical strength was useless in Spock’s pursuit of the captain.

  


Spock had made his presence known to the two debating ensigns and had watched with secret pleasure as they made a quick and undignified retreat.

  


Still, Spock’s quandary had remained.

  


The very qualities that helped Kirk survive the Empire were the ones that would make any kind of meaningful relationship between them nearly impossible. Kirk was ruthless, violent, and paranoid, and every overture Spock made, no matter how harmless, was met with with suspicion or outright antagonism. 

  


Spock was persistent, but when his subtle advances began to whip his captain’s usually manageable paranoia into a murderous psychosis, Spock decided a direct approach would be more effective. Not to mention safer, for himself and for whatever hapless ensign was unfortunate enough to stumble into Kirk’s path.

  


“Captain, if you are amenable, I would like to engage in a sexual relationship with you.”

  


Since catching Kirk alone was not only difficult to do, but also exceedingly dangerous, Spock had approached him in the officer’s lounge, careful to keep a seat between them should Kirk decide to lash out. 

  


Uhura and Scotty were conversing on the opposite side of the room, and after Spock’s bold declaration, Kirk cast them a quick glance before settling more comfortably in his seat. 

  


“Is that so?” he asked, one corner of his mouth turning up before he raised the glass in his hand and took a swig. He crossed one leg over the other, the fabric of his trousers pulling enticingly tight over a solid thigh.

  


“Yes,” Spock confirmed, careful to keep his voice and his manner cool and unthreatening. 

  


Kirk watched Spock for a seemingly endless minute, hazel eyes flashing and then narrowing as he took another sip of his drink. His gaze darted to the doorway and back to Spock, and Spock realized that Scotty and Uhura had just departed. 

  


They were now alone. 

  


Kirk grew tense, and though he remained still, Spock had the sense that his body was preparing for movement, like a  _ le-matya  _ about to spring. Indeed, Kirk’s entire bearing brought to mind a wildness that was feline and powerful, beautiful but ferocious.

  


Spock dismissed these fanciful thoughts and stood in a slow but fluid movement before stepping back to meet Kirk’s eyes. “I do not require an immediate response. I hope you will consider my proposal.” 

  


Kirk nodded slowly, some of the tension easing. “I assure you, commander, I will give your... _ proposal  _ all the consideration it is deserves.”

  


Spock resisted the urge to purse his lips in consternation at Kirk’s acerbic tone and left the lounge with measured strides. He had made Kirk aware of his desire, and now he could only wait for Kirk’s response.

  


Weeks passed after their brief conversation in the officer’s lounge, and Kirk had not given him any indication one way or the other of his feelings on the matter. Spock did not like to admit to such damning emotions, but he could no longer deny to himself that he was angry and resentful over Kirk’s silence. He continued to watch Kirk as he always did, drawn by the human’s dynamism, by both his vigorous, toned physique and his keen mind.

  


Spock was sure that even his exacting father would approve of the match, as he himself had bonded with a daunting human. If Spock could only get Kirk to respond to him...

  


Spock began to wonder if Kirk was completely unaffected by the him, but then he noticed changes in the captain’s behavior. It started small at first, with Kirk being more snappish than usual when giving orders. But soon Kirk became so distracted and bad-tempered that he risked inciting the crew to mutiny. 

  


His aggression, at least, was something the crew was familiar with, but his distraction worried Spock. It left Kirk vulnerable to attack, and it was only a matter of time before someone with the right combination of nerve and ambition made a move to relieve Kirk of command. Spock could only assume that his proposition was the cause of Kirk’s agitation, and he knew that he must take action soon, though he was uncertain of what exactly he could do to remedy the situation.

  


Kirk, as was his habit, made a move first.

  


Spock was walking past the upper level recreation lounge when the door opened and he found himself being hauled inside. His fingers were poised above a well-muscled shoulder when he caught the sight of fierce golden eyes and his hand dropped. He let Kirk shove him deeper into the room, let Kirk’s fists ball in his uniform shirt and push him back until he slammed into the wall opposite the door. 

  


His heart pounding, Spock glared at his captain’s snarling face as he felt a cool blade bite into his neck. 

  


That Kirk would confront him here, in full view of so many shocked and darkly curious crewmembers...Spock caught Kirk by the wrist, and he felt the furious temptation to throw Kirk off entirely, to publicly assert his own strength and regain some of his dignity.

  


But something in Kirk’s expression stopped him. Kirk appeared heated and dangerous, his tanned skin glistening and his teeth bared, but his eyes darted in uncertainty, as though he was trying to solve a difficult equation. Spock relaxed back against the wall, tilting his chin up and softening his own gaze. He inhaled slowly, taking in Kirk’s strong, all-too-human scent, and though he kept his grip on Kirk’s knife-hand, Spock let his other hand drop to his side.

  


He must not provoke Kirk if he was to succeed. 

  


Kirk leaned in and his hot breath puffed against Spock’s face as he whispered, “What do you want from me?”

  


Very much aware of their audience, Spock answered in an equally quiet voice. “As I said, I desire a sexual relationship with you.”

  


“Oh really.” Kirk sneered, pressing the knife a little harder against Spock’s throat. “And that’s all?”

  


Spock wanted more than that, of course, but he could not make Kirk aware of his true desire. Not at this time. Spock wanted this compelling, virile human for his mate, wanted to join their minds together and bond them, but Kirk would never consent to that unless Spock first earned his trust.

  


“Captain, I mean you no harm,” Spock said, sidestepping Kirk’s question. “I am quite comfortable in my current position, and I have no wish to climb the ranks.”

  


Kirk leaned his lower half into Spock, pressing his sizeable erection against him. “I’m pretty comfortable with your current position too.”

  


Spock raised a disdainful eyebrow, and was relieved when this caused Kirk’s lips to twist into an almost playful smile. Spock decided that he liked this expression on his captain, and wished to see it again under better circumstances.

  


But the smile vanished all too quickly, and Kirk’s eyes narrowed. 

  


“If you think I’m going to submit to you—”

  


“No,” Spock breathed out. He gentled his clutch on Kirk’s wrist, his fingers stroking once over Kirk’s skin before stilling again. “I do not expect that from you. And I would never do anything to jeopardise your position as captain.”

  


Spock knew how important it was for the captain to assert his dominance over those under him, to exude power and forceful strength in order to maintain his position. And though that did not mean that Kirk couldn’t submit to Spock in private, Spock also understood that Kirk’s need for control was a part of his very nature, and that feeling as though he was losing that control would be unbearable to him.

  


As for the pon farr...if Spock was successful in gaining Kirk as his mate that was something he would have to negotiate with Kirk later.

  


Kirk’s stare grew sultry, and his lips parted around a deep, slow exhale. It seemed as though he was about to kiss Spock when he drew back a little and glared at him instead.

  


“You’ve never shown an interest in anyone before, so why now? Why me?” Though Kirk did not press down on the knife again, he let it slide a little, drawing forth a trickle of blood. “What is it you’re really after? I want the truth.”

  


Spock knew that everything hinged on his answer, that whatever he said next would bring him either pleasure or pain. Or both.

  


“An ally.”

  


It was not an untruth.

  


Kirk’s expression grew hungry, and without moving the knife, he reached down and unfastened his trousers. 

  


Spock could not stop his eyes from widening a fraction. “What are you doing?”

  


“You wanted me and now you’ve got me.” Kirk’s hand bumped against Spock’s growing erection as he firmly stroked himself. “I’m going to fuck you right here against this wall.”

  


Spock glanced around the room, panic rising, and tugged at the hand still holding the blade against him. 

  


Without taking his eyes from Spock, Kirk said in a loud, clear voice, “Get out.”

  


Spock closed his eyes, and he heard rather than saw people scurrying out of the recreation room. The silence that fell when the doors hissed shut on the last retreating crewperson was charged, sending a tingling of anticipation through him. Spock did not open his eyes until he felt Kirk step back, and he was pleased to see him finally sheath his dagger. 

  


Spock’s gaze dropped, and his skin heated when he saw Kirk’s thick, pink cock jutting from his open trousers, the tip producing a glistening bead of precum as Kirk took its length in his fist and pumped it.

  


“Turn around,” Kirk ordered.

  


Spock heard the command, but could not seem to tear his gaze away from the display before him. Kirk had untied his gold sash—hiking his shirt up a little in the process—and was clutching it in one hand, the other hand still roughly stroking himself. Every taut, smooth line of Kirk’s muscular body promised vigor and endurance, and Spock wanted that body in his arms, wanted to touch and smell and taste every inch of him.

  


“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Kirk’s voice was steel, and it snapped Spock out of his possessive thoughts.

  


Spock turned and faced the wall, and a moment later Kirk yanked his arms behind his back. The scratchy fabric of the sash slid over Spock’s fingers as Kirk secured Spock’s arms, knotting the sash so tightly that it bit painfully into his skin.

  


Spock voiced no complaint, focusing instead on the hands now snaking beneath his shirt. Kirk’s nails scratched mercilessly over Spock’s nipples, then drew a hot, stinging path down Spock’s abdomen. 

  


When Kirk’s hands reached Spock’s trousers, he opened them and then unceremoniously yanked them down. Spock’s briefs quickly followed, and Spock gasped when Kirk suddenly shoved him forward into the wall. With his arms tied behind his back, Spock was unable to keep the side of his face from slamming into the smooth, cold surface. 

  


Spock was bent at the waist, his neck at an uncomfortable angle, but when he tried to raise himself up a little, Kirk pressed a hand to the back of his neck and held him firmly in place.

  


Spock felt the heat of the human behind him, and his focus sharpened when he heard a series of faint noises. He was puzzled until he felt slick fingers slide down the crease of his ass to tease at his hole. Spock’s uncomfortable position seemed to matter less when he considered that Kirk had come here prepared, obviously intending to accept Spock’s offer.

  


He let out only the barest sigh when Kirk’s fingers began working into him, blunt and unrelenting, though not unnecessarily rough.

  


“Is this what you want?” Kirk asked in a throaty rumble near Spock’s ear. 

  


Spock grunted when the hand against his neck pressed a little harder and the fingers within him stabbed deeper. 

  


“Yes,” Spock managed to get out.

  


“You want more?”

  


Spock hissed as Kirk’s fingers began to twist, shoving deeper still. “Yes!” 

  


Kirk’s fingers slid out of Spock abruptly, with a wet sound that seemed obscenely loud in the quiet recreation room.

  


For a brief moment, as the blunt head of Kirk’s swollen cock pressed insistently between Spock’s cheeks, he marvelled at his success, thrilled at the knowledge that he was about to be taken by his formidable captain. Then Spock felt himself breached, felt the intense, burning stretch as the thick cock pushed into him.

  


As Kirk began to thrust, Spock silently wished that his hands were free so that he could brace himself against wall, and he was relieved when the hand on his neck moved to his head, relieving some of the strain.

  


Kirk gripped Spock’s hair and began to pound into him, clutching Spock’s hip tightly with his other hand, and his breathing quickly grew heavy.

 

The sound of slapping skin and the scent of sweat and sex soon engulfed Spock’s senses. When Kirk slammed into him with particular enthusiasm, Spock spread his legs as wide as the trousers around his thighs would allow to better keep his balance and let out a grunt.

  


Kirk slammed into Spock again, driving him a little further up the wall, and said, “That’s right. Let me hear you.”

  


Kirk began to fuck him harder, and Spock reluctantly gave in to the urge to cry out as the building of helpless pleasure and a deep, irresistible ache finally overwhelmed him. Each withdrawal of the burning hardness within him left Spock with a feeling of yawning emptiness, and each savage forward thrust made him feel as though he would split apart.

  


Spock gasped against the wall, his arms pulling uselessly at the gold sash, as Kirk’s pace reached a fever pitch. 

  


Spock’s choking cries cut off as Kirk’s furiously working hips collided with his and remained pressed there for a few long moments. 

  


Kirk groaned and dug his nails into Spock’s skin, and his cock pulsed as he came inside him. He lazily ground into Spock a few more times, still gasping for breath, and then pulled out. He braced both hands on the wall on either side of Spock, and Spock felt Kirk’s moist breath gusting against the back of his neck in an uneven rhythm.

  


Spock’s arousal felt heavy and tight between his legs, and he actually sighed when Kirk released his arms from the sash and then reached around to grasp him in a teasingly gentle grip. Not wanting to disturb this quiet moment by speaking, Spock straightened and leaned back against Kirk, letting his eyelids drift shut as Kirk stroked him.

  


The light stubble of Kirk’s cheek scraped against Spock’s ear, and Spock tensed a little when Kirk let out a low chuckle.

  


“It’s your turn.”

  


The words were not spoken with any hint of a threat, but a moment later Kirk yanked Spock further away from the wall, dragging him with careless force to a table in the center of the room. He gave Spock a vicious shove, and with his legs tangled in his trousers, Spock was unable to keep himself from falling backward onto the surface of the table with a painful thud. 

  


Kirk was on him in an instant, leaning over him and engulfing Spock’s erection in his human-hot mouth. Kirk’s skilled tongue swirled around the head of his cock in a torment of fiery pleasure, but when Kirk’s fingers sank into Spock’s slack hole he gasped, his back arching off the table. Two fingers, three, four, worked into him, shoving and twisting and stroking him even as the mouth around his straining shaft swallowed him down.

  


With his back still arched and hips helplessly thrusting up into the hot mouth and down onto the wildly pistoning fingers, Spock threw back his head and let out a moan that echoed through the room. His fingers scrabbled at the surface of the table and the wet, sloppy squelching noises were soon drowned out by Spock’s broken shout as he came hard down his captain’s throat.

  


Spock hissed when Kirk’s fingers slid out of him, leaving him gaping open and sore, but it was some minutes before he was aware of much else. 

  


He raised his head and stared blearily at Kirk when he felt a swat on his naked thigh, and his dick might have twitched with interest at the sensual way Kirk licked his moist lips if he wasn’t already completely spent.

  


Kirk’s trousers were refastened, and as he tied his sash back on, he gave Spock a devilish grin.

  


“So, I guess I can consider you my ally now?” 

  


Though Spock made no move to get off the table, or even to sit up, he took a few deep breaths to center himself and smoothly replied, “Indeed, you may.”

  


“Well then. I look forward to a...mutually beneficial partnership with you.”

  


Kirk gave him an irreverent salute and strolled to the door as though he hadn’t just fucked his first officer senseless and left him sprawled on a table.

  


When the door opened for Kirk, Spock struggled into a half-sitting position, resting back on his elbows. He heard Kirk say something to one of the men standing guard in the hallway about not allowing anyone entrance, and then the door closed, cutting off Spock’s view of the object of his now inflamed desire.

  


Spock pulled himself to the edge of the table, winced at the pain in his ass, and reached down to tug his trousers up.

  


All in all, he supposed it was a good start.

  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Story and series titles from the song [Towards The Sun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzcRrS2qRtY), by Rihanna.


End file.
